Dotty

Wee2 wandered into the bathroom recently whilst I was in the shower, shaving my legs.

‘Merm-eeeeeeeeee…. why aren’t you shaving your beard?’

This is where I admit, that at the not-so-very-grand age of 42, I have a whisker. In fact I have two. The first one became known to me after a walk on one particularly cold Warsaw weekend. I went into the bathroom to inspect the frostbite on my earlobes and happened to brush my hand past one very frozen, not-so-fine, inch-long hair, sprouting from the right hand side of my chin! I’m still not terribly comfortable wondering just how long I had been mincing around in my coporate glad-rags, only to be sporting facial hair… however, the problem was dealt with swiftly and decisively: out it came.

Then it came back. With a friend! Out they both came. And so, for the last 7 years my two whiskers and I have been conducting our relentless battle on a monthly basis.

The morning that darling Wee2 asked why I was not attending to my face, I instinctively put my hand to my chin… and there they were. No problem, thought I, mentally sharpening my prongs of finest sprung steel. But wait… Oh no. It cannot be – surely? I put one hand up, then the other. I faced the mirror, then turned around. I all but stood on my head trying to work out just how the left hand side of my face had become the right hand side…

Please do not write in with the answer. I know. I just don’t want to give the situation the reality of cold hard numbers.

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

First of all I should admit (since we are being open and honest here) that I am only writing this post to put off the EVIL moment when I have to ‘fess up to the state of my dressing table.

There, that feels a tiny bit better. I have typed the words dressing table. This is like receiving a children’s party invitation and entering it into the diary and feeling as though the job is done… then forgetting to RSVP, buy the card and the present, and having to wonder if you can get away with wrapping the last-minute present from the garage shop in newspaper as a semi-green, urban trendy statement. Don’t try it – I have, and it doesn’t work.

Now – that last bit was another procrastination! You know where this is going, don’t you? Yep – the search for SLS-free hair cleaning was not entirely successful.

It isn’t ALL doom and gloom – nasty chemical-free shampoos are out there – but they cost a fortune, and then they cost another fortune in p&p. Of course, you might be lucky and live or work somewhere near a shop which sells this kind of stuff. I do not. So – onto make-your-own. Eggs? Too expensive, and I’m afraid I can feel the cold slimy drippy rivulets working their way down my neck as I type. Bicarbonate of Soda? This is really wimpy of me – but it just seems too harsh and I can envisage flakes of half-scoured scalp floating around my head like an early snow flurry.

The final option seemed to be the Self-Cleaning Method. I love that phrase: of course, what it means is Do Bugger All – but they can’t call it that. I can! So, on Saturday night last I decided that I would give the DBA method a go. I even bought a baseball cap to wear for the grim first week ahead. Apparently something magical happens after the first week (or is the second?) and once flat fine straight hair becomes bouncy thick curly locks JUST like Nigella Lawson’s. Truly… I read it somewhere. Anyway, Sunday morning came, I had breakfast, went back upstairs, looked in the mirror and gave up.

Hair product aisle – please save my seat.

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

So, I mentioned earlier in Beauty Regimes – the beginning, that I was looking into the Oil Cleansing Method: www.theoilcleansingmethod.com.
I went out (OK – I searched on eBay, and ordered!) and bought my castor oil, which seemed innocuous enough – thick, gloopy and not as smelly as I anticipated… in fact not smelly at all. Because I am an impatient naughty little rabbit sometimes, I didn’t go back to the oil cleansing site, but did my usual: I’ve read it once so now I know what to do… and you know – this works! What a fantastic start.
The oil cleansing method according to Dottymummy goes something like this:
Take an attractive small ramekin-sized container (I have a particularly fetching yoghurt pot) and glug in some castor oil, then stroll over to the cooker, pick up your olive oil (extra-virgin, of course) and glug some of that in. Now tootle off upstairs to your bedroom or bathroom and sprinkle in a drop or two or lavender oil. While you are up there, you might as well get started. Hair away from face, wiggle fingers in pot to mix up and then just massage into your face and neck. You can either clean it off now, or chat to a pal for a while or have a cup of tea and then do it. Best not to leave it too long in case you forget and go out to pick up the kids… then people will talk (and not in a kind way). OK, now you need a flannel (don’t go and get organic muslin, unless you feel you absolutely must: I use 19p ones) and it needs to be put in hot hot water, then ring it out and lay it over your face so you get that lovely end of curry feeling. Wipe, do the hot hot thing again and rub the rest of the oil off. Almost it.
Your skin will feel as though it has just had a very expensive facial, but there is one step remaining. Moisturise and you know what? Chuck out the pots and tubes and serums – get a £1.50 bottle of coconut oil, run it under the hot tap and pour a tupenny-sized puddle into your palms. Smooth this over your face and neck, then rub into your hands. Real moisture, no grease, some sun protection and not ONE chemical. How can this not be good?

If I was not quite so shy and retiring and devoid of any vanity I would take a photo of my skin right now, two weeks in. I am blemish-free, my pores have disappeared, blackheads – what are they?, and even those nasty time-of-the-month flare-ups… gone.

Try it: it will cost you less than a new lipstick – less than a bottle of cleanser – less than a nail polish, and you will look and feel beautiful.

Oh – and if you are still not convinced: you don’t need to do this twice a day! This is Dottymummy slut heaven. Wiggle in the evening and in the morning all you need is a quick flannel rub in the shower and a spot of coconut oil when you do your teeth.

Next stop: shampoo. I gaily switched to the Tesco B-Natural line, happy to be paraben-free… but it is still laden with Sodium Laurel Sulphate: boo! I’ll keep you updated: bad hair days and all!

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

I’m not very good at this stuff. I’m 42 and still trying to get into the habit of cleanse/tone/moisturise once a day, never mind twice. In the past I have tried several methods to try and get the habit: the more usual one was to buy ever-more expensive products. Now poverty (and reality) has struck. I did try Tesco’s ‘bnatural’ range – and it is actually lovely, but then, having gone down the natural route, I became more obsessed with more natural. Having borrowed India Knight’s book ‘The Thrift Book’ (how thrifty is that?!), she recommends the oil cleansing method using a mixture of castor oil and olive oil (www.theoilcleansingmethod.com). I have ordered the castor oil online: Boots don’t stock it because, to much sniggering and giggling, it is no longer recommended for its ‘original’ purpose. India Knight’s book is, by the way, well worth buying and is a joy to read, as well as being full of very useful and do-able advice.
As for make-up – even more hopeless. I do try and make the effort: a light foundation if I can find it, blusher if I’ve managed to find the foundation, lipstick (I try and keep some lying around in the kitchen, car, handbag, coat pockets just to remind me I should be using it) and mascara a couple of times a year. I’m going to try and do mascara a bit more as it does make a big difference to my face. The other thing that I am never without is Elizabeth Arden’s 8 hour cream. Great for chapped lips (and ears in -24º Warsaw winters) but also as a lip gloss. The smell is divine and reminds me of trips to the cinema with girlfriends where we would pay the extortionate fee of £8 per seat and have a private room with our own screen and waitress service bringing jolly good G&Ts. I do find smells the most evocative of the senses. Perfume: Organza by Givenchy (although I’m fearing it may be nearing the end of its life) and Bulgari. I used to wear much heavier oriental scents, but whether it is the baby-factor or just growing up, they now sit on me like a rather daft over-trimmed hat.

Bookmark It

Hide Sites